


color my life with the chaos of trouble

by orphan_account



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Dorks in Love, Dorms, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Feelings Realization, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Poor Life Choices, Slytherin Common Room, daniil is a little shit, ravenclaw!stef, slytherin!sascha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23648470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Daniil decides that it would be fun to hex Sascha's hair to change color depending on his emotions - Sascha is in for a lot of realizations.
Relationships: Stefanos Tsitsipas/Alexander Zverev
Comments: 52
Kudos: 121





	1. 5 colors in her hair

**Author's Note:**

> Hogwarts AU? Howarts AU.
> 
> This is inspired by this lovely Wolfstar fic: Not afraid of anything (even time) by flora_tyronelle!

“Alright which one of you did it?”

Sascha can barely hear his own voice over the laughter that erupts the moment he walks into his dorm and takes the towel off his head.

Furious, he attacks the person closest to him – Nick, who is so busy rolling on his bed laughing that he barely even fights back – while Fabio rummages into his trunk trying to find his muggle polaroid camera to immortalize the catastrophe. Daniil, who was reading a book on his bed, merely lifts his eyes, grins, and then goes back to it shaking his head. To Sascha, it’s an immediate giveaway of Daniil’s guiltiness.

“You hexed me while I was sleeping in the Prefects bathtub, you tosser!”

Daniil merely shrugs, flipping to the next page of the book he’s reading – which, unsurprisingly, happens to be a hexing manual. Typical.

“I thought you were bragging just a couple days ago of how you’re so good at counter-hexes. Wanted to give you a chance to prove it”.

“Daniil, mate, this is bloody _brilliant_ , I tell you,” Nick interjects from where he’s lying on his bed, wiping tears off his eyes.

“Yeah, how did you get the color to change?” Fabio asks.

“ _Change?”_ Sascha squeaks, “What do you mean change?”

He jumps off Nick’s bed and runs to the full length mirror in the far left corner of the room. He stares at his reflection with a shocked and outraged expression – when he first saw it in the Prefects bathroom, his hair was bright purple, but not it seems to be changing again, from pitch black to a peachy orange.

“Daniil what did you _do_?”

Daniil doesn’t even lift his eyes from the book, but he answers casually, “it’s supposed to change with your mood. I guess it went black when you were angry just a few moments ago… I must say I’m a bit impressed with how well it worked”.

“Brilliant mate, honestly brilliant. Also, with how moody and susceptible this idiot is, his hair is bound to change every two seconds,” Nick says, and as if on command Sascha’s hair goes back to a menacing black.

Daniil hums thoughtfully, observing his work before adding “I guess I should have hexed your eyebrows to match… it does look a bit weird”.

Sascha’s hair settles on black as he fumes with anger.

“Awww, poor baby Sascha… are you gonna go to professor Djokovic to complain?” Fabio mocks him, before lifting up his camera and snapping a picture of a very angry Sascha.

Sascha scoffs. Professor Djokovic teaches Potions, and he’s also the head of their house – Sascha is pretty sure that if he went to complain about being hexed by his dorm mate he would get docked points for whinging.

“You’re not going to do the counter-hex, are you,” he tells Daniil.

“Nope. You said you’re an expert, so it should be child’s play, no? But if you had maybe, er, overestimated your abilities, this hex will vanish by itself in… hm, a week or so”.

“A _week?_ We’re playing Gryffindor in two days! You can’t – I can’t play looking like this!”

“Looks like it goes green when you’re scared,” Daniil comments noncommittally. 

“Oh, fuck _off_!”

“Mate, just make sure you’re scared before we play and your hair will match our uniforms – shouldn’t be too hard for you”.

“Shut up, Nick. You’re team captain, you should be defending me!”

Nick just grins at him and Sascha, hair back to pitch black, stomps out of the dorm to go look for help in the Slytherin common room.

Truth be told, Sascha knows he’s an uncommonly talented wizard – he’s always in the run for top of his now sixth-year class – but Daniil is a master at hexes and despite trying to fix his hair in the bathroom for almost an hour he has, so far, failed miserably.

He plops down on the leather couch in front of the fire, hiding his face in his hands as he hears Sloane, his fellow Prefect, and Bianca start snickering from where they’re sat on the other couch.

“Acid green doesn’t really suit you”, Sloane comments.

Acid green must be sheer shame and embarrassment, then.

“Please don’t rub it in”.

“Potion gone wrong?” Bianca asks, and the smugness in her voice makes Sascha want to immediately hex her.

“Oh, black looks much better on you sweetie – how do you make it change?”

“I don’t! Daniil decided to do this stupid hex and my hair changes when – “ Sascha cuts himself short, realizing that if he shares the mechanics behind his ever-changing hair color, _everyone_ will have access to all of his feelings and emotions for possibly an entire week. “It changes whenever. It’s random, Daniil thought it would be funny”.

“Well it is kind of funny, not gonna lie,” Sloane says as Sascha’s hair turns an outraged, strawberry red.

“Oh my god this is _so_ not your color,” Bianca comments, delighted. “I can’t wait for you to show up to Transfiguration looking like that tomorrow”.

Professor Federer is their Transfiguration teacher, and head of the Ravenclaw house. Everybody knows that Sascha completely idolizes the man. Thankfully, professor Federer is not an evil person, so he’ll probably have a good laugh and not harp on this too much.

“Tsitsipas is also going to have a good laugh at you – what, with how you were bragging about being so good at counter-charms last week when he was struggling in Charms”.

Sascha groans loudly, his hair turning into a bluish-green that represented dread.

Stefanos Tsitsipas is a Prefect for Ravenclaw – and he’s also Sascha’s arch-nemesis. It doesn’t help that the two are constantly compared: smart, tall, blonde (well, at least with green hair Sascha will not be mistaken for Tsitsipas anymore), both of them good at Quidditch, both of them top of their class.

Sascha feels like he couldn’t be any more different from Tsitsipas, who is always spewing off weird philosophical quotes and talking about – _Gerbils,_ or whatever that is. And sure, Tsitsipas does have _some_ talent, but in Sascha’s opinion he’s completely overrated.

“Oh, don’t fret Sascha,” Sloane says. “This isn’t nearly as bad as it could be – imagine if Daniil had given you some Amortentia and the first person you saw was, I don’t know, Headmaster Laver”.

“Sloane! _Gross_!” Bianca says, and the two start a turn of ‘would you rather’ while Sascha sinks lower into the couch and prepares for one of the longest weeks of his life.


	2. color me surprised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The debut of Sascha's colorful hair and a new, interesting shade.

Breakfast the next day is a painful affair.

Sascha is grateful that he’s a popular guy at school – handsome, if he could say so himself, good at Quidditch and good at magic – because that gives him the courage to at least act nonchalantly about his hair, at the moment an embarrassed magenta.

It’s better to laugh at his hair with everyone else than show how mortified he feels when professor Nadal, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and head of the Gryffindor house, glances at him while on his way to the teachers table and says “interesting choice”. The hair does a pretty good job at expressing his true feelings for him, turning a depressed shade of blue, but at least nobody outside of his dorm mates can make the connection. Hopefully.

Sascha starts stabbing his egg with his fork, trying not to look as annoyed as he feels. He probably fails at it, because while his house-mates keep snickering at him, he must give off desperate enough vibes to attract a full-of-comforting-energy Dominic from the Hufflepuff table.

“You didn’t tell me you were auditioning to be in a Kpop band,” Dominic says, sitting next to him on the bench once Fabio slides a little bit to make space for him.

“You know I have no idea what that is,” Sascha mumbles – like the vast majority of Slytherins, he comes from a Pureblood family and is pretty clueless when it came to Muggle things. Luckily, backward concepts like blood purity and all that had pretty much faded away in the last couple of decades – that doesn’t mean that students from families of all wizards are in any way familiar with Muggle culture. “Also, I didn’t do this myself, _clearly_ ,” he adds, glaring at Daniil, who’s sitting opposite him.

Dominic just smiles, kind eyes full of earnest sympathy – God he’s such a Hufflepuff. But that’s exactly why Sascha loves him and needs someone like him in his life, someone to counterbalance his crazy ambition and horrible moods. And sure, Dominic obviously thinks this is funny too, but at least he’s not being a complete asshole about it.

Just as he’s feeling full of affection for his friend, Sascha catches his hair turning a happy, golden yellow while glancing at his reflection on the back of a spoon.

“It’s almost normal now,” Dominic comments, looking thoughtful. “And I’m sure people will get tired of laughing about it in a couple hours, anyways. You have Transfiguration with Ravenclaw now, right?”

Sascha nods, shoving the entire egg in his mouth to avoid thinking about having to face both professor Federer and stupid Tsitsipas in twenty minutes, but he’s pretty sure his hair is back to a literally dreadful green.

And right on cue - “You’re matching your robes,” Dominic says. “At least people may think you did it on purpose to show, uhm, house spirit or something?”

“Yeah I’m sure that’s exactly what they’re gonna think,” Sascha mutters under his breath.

He feels Dominic friendly bumping into his shoulder in a show of comfort.

“You could ask Madam Evert to fix it, you know…” he suggests.

“I’m not going to cry in the Infirmary because my hair is green, that would be even more embarrassing”.

“Actually it’s blue, mate,” Nick butts in.

“Shut up, Nick”

“I think it’s more of a puke-green, actually,” Fabio chips in, talking with his mouth full and getting a pretty judgmental glare from Sloane and Bianca.

“I feel so good knowing you two are supposed to prevent me from getting my head bashed by bludgers during Quidditch games… really reassuring to know you have my back,” Sascha snaps back, irritated.

“Aw, come on mate, have we ever failed you?” Nick asks – and no, they haven’t really.

Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup for three years in a row now, and they’re gunning for a fourth title this year. The Quidditch season is around the corner, starting right after Halloween, which is tomorrow.

Sascha loves his team to pieces – Nick and Fabio are formidable beaters; him, Bianca and Karolina are in perfect sync as chasers, with Daniil as their keeper, and Sloane is a fast and precise seeker. A pretty much unbeatable team, and professor Djokovic makes sure they never slack off, incredibly competitive as he is.

The thought of the game against Gryffindor approaching cheers him up a bit, as does the idea of the Halloween Banquet, always one of the best celebrations of the year at Hogwarts.

It’s with these thoughts that he and the other sixth year Slytherins start walking towards Transfiguration, entering the room on the third floor a few minutes later.

The class quickly fills, students sitting at their usual desks. For Sascha, that means sitting between Nick and Sloane, Daniil and Fabio behind him and, usually, Angie and Felix from Ravenclaw in front of him. He and Angie have been friends since second year, when they had to share a detention with professor Murray that entailed having to care for a bunch of flobberworms for an entire afternoon.

Angie sits down and immediately turns towards him with a giant grin on her face.

“So,” she starts. “What did I miss and why wasn’t I invited? You look cute, by the way. Matches your eyes and all”.

So now his hair is sky blue and – you know what. Sascha is getting the feeling that he has way too many feelings if the colours really change that fast.

Before he can reply, someone calls his name from the other side of the classroom. He doesn’t even need to turn around to know that it’s stupid Tsitsipas, who always sits by the window and who is undoubtedly about to make fun of him.

Hoping the other students’ chatter will cover whatever Tsitsipas decides to say to him, Sascha schools his face into nonchalance and then accepts his fate and turns around.

Tsitsipas is standing by the window, tall, arms crossed, golden curls tied in a half-ponytail and dark eyes set on Sascha as his tanned face breaks into a grin.

“Hello, Stefanos,” Sascha decides to say, hoping it will make him seem unaffected in the face of his enemy’s scorn. Vaguely, he hears Sloane and Fabio snicker, but he refuses to acknowledge his traitorous friends.

“I’m, uhm, _sure_ you did this on purpose, but you know – if you ever need help with counter-hexing your hair… I know you say you’re an _expert_ and all that, but I could definitely give it a try”.

Point taken.

“I’ll keep it in mind. I don’t think I’m quite that desperate yet.” It’s a weak rebuttal and he knows it, but it’s the best he can come up with. He feels his cheeks and neck burning a little as Tsitsipas just keeps grinning at him – what a _weirdo_ , honestly.

He turns around towards his friend, ready to complain and to tell Daniil to expect a cruel revenge, and he finds them all staring at him with varying degrees of shock, confusion and delight.

“What?” he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice.

For a second, they all seem too shocked to say anything. Then, finally, Nick takes pity on him.

“Mate… when you were talking to Tsitsipas just now, your hair went all baby-pink and shit”.

“You also blushed,” Daniil adds helpfully, and Sascha would really appreciated if he made more of an effort to keep his voice _down_ , for God’s sake.

“Danya stop being such a tosser and just –“

Wait.

Wait a second.

Baby-pink.

What does baby-pink mean?

It can’t mean… there’s no way. _No way._ Baby-pink probably means disgust and horror and – and…

“…fuck”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you soooo much to everyone who read and commented and left kudos on chapter one! I hope this one doesn't disappoint :) please let me know what you think!!


	3. and i've been so colorblind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sascha thinks a lot, pines a lot, and pets some nifflers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will i always have stupid puns in the title? probably

It is an unspoken agreement that they simply do _not_ mention baby-pink-gate.

After the lesson Sascha makes a hasty escape, choosing to spend the free hour he has before Astronomy helping professor Murray, the Cure of Magical Creatures teacher, feeding and brushing a bunch of nifflers. Sascha has an uncanny ability to make any animal – magical or not – immediately take a liking to him, and professor Murray always appreciates the help, although he does make a couple of sarcastic comments directed at Sascha’s hair, which turns an affectionate gold once he starts petting his favorite niffler.

Sascha knows that his friends all know that baby pink hair could only ever signify a crush, especially since it’s a color that seems to be only reserved for Tsitsipas. All of them, apart from Daniil, who looked unnervingly smug, had looked pretty shocked and surprised by this revelation – Nick and Fabio had for once lost their words, which was an almost unprecedented fact. The truth is – _Sascha_ hadn’t even known he had a crush.

He has known he likes boys for a long time, he even used to have a puppy crush on Dominic back in third year, and his friends know about it and don’t care. But somehow, the fact that he is attracted to Tsitsipas comes as an unsettling revelation – not because Tsitsipas isn’t attractive, he _is_ , but because he and Sascha have never been able to see eye to eye and genuinely, honestly dislike each other, and that’s a fact.

But now that he allows himself to think about it honestly, fingers burrowed in the niffler’s soft fur, he remembers all the times when Tsitsipas _said_ something, or _did_ something, or was simply _there_ and Sascha’s stomach has turned into knots, or his face has suddenly started feeling warm, or he has somehow lost his train of thought. He’s always thought it was because of his instinctive displeasure at being around the Ravenclaw prefect, but that – that’s not it, is it?

Professor Murray’s voice brings him back to reality.

“Whatever it is, Zverev, it’s nothing that you won’t be able to unravel and understand in time,” he says, laconic.

Sascha stays quiet, giving the niffler one last pet before standing up, wondering what color his hair is now that all he feels is confusion and a little bit, or maybe a lot of fear.

“How do you, uhm. How does one understand something that didn’t seem even remotely possible up until a few minutes before?” he finds himself asking, and he wonders if he’s making any sense.

Professor Murray looks at him intently for one long second,

“You should come help me more often,” he just says, cryptically, before adding: “It’s quite remarkable what we can figure out when we allow ourselves to be surrounded by our own thoughts and the least judgmental creatures in the world”.

-

Sascha is almost late for Astronomy, and he manages to enter the classroom, at the very top of the West Tower, with only a minute or so to spare.

Without thinking he occupies his usual seat next to Nick. When he chances a look at his friend, he finds him already staring back, with a concerned look on his face. It’s not as out of place as one may think – underneath his boisterous persona, Nick is actually an extremely loyal and caring friend, and he is without a doubt the mom-friend of their little group. He’s surprisingly observant and way more empathetic than he lets on, and he’s always ready to lend a helping hand to the people he cares about. He would never admit it, but once Sascha saw him comfort a Gryffindor first-year girl who was crying because she had fallen from her broom.

“You okay?” he asks Sascha, keeping his voice at a surprisingly quiet volume.

“I’m fine,” Sascha replies, his default for any sort of question regarding his feelings.

“Well, if you ever want to talk, y’ know we can sneak to Hogsmeade, grab some Firewhiskey and get smashed. That may help you let it out. You only have to say the word”.

It’s a very Nick way of dealing with issues concerning feelings, but Sascha appreciates the offer nonetheless.

“Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind,” he says, a pang of gratitude making him feel less embarrassed than he would otherwise.

“Aw, your hair went all golden and shit. Guess we’re besties now,” Nick says, poking him in the arm repeatedly with his quill and grinning.

“Apparently nifflers have the same effect on me, so don’t feel too special”.

“You know, mate, sometimes I truly do wonder how the fuck you got into Slytherin when you’re out there cuddling _nifflers_ on a daily basis. That’s some truly Hufflepuff shit if you ask me.”

“Shut up, Nick”.

-

Lunch is a painful affair.

Now that he knows that he has a crush, Sascha is hyper aware of Tsitsipas at all times, his heart going wild whenever he spots the head of golden curls at the Ravenclaw table.

It’s infuriating, and his friends seem to sense that because they decide to pretend that nothing has happened and that Sascha’s hair isn’t going baby pink every single time he stares at the Ravenclaw table for a moment too long, choosing instead to focus on the Slytherin versus Gryffindor game, which is happening – _shit._

It’s happening tomorrow. Sascha immediately tunes out Tsitsipas’ stupidly pretty eyes and pays attention to what Nick is telling them instead.

“I’ve booked the pitch for us for three hours tonight,” Nick is saying as the team is huddled around him at the table, most of them forgetting their dessert and focusing on listening to their captain. “We already know what we need to do, but Fabio has done some, uh, shall we say – he has been gathering some information on Gryffindor’s latest game plan, so we’re trying a couple of new strategies tonight for good measure. Nothing we don’t already know what to do, so you guys better live up to last year’s hype, because we’re _not_ losing tomorrow against that bunch of big-headed idiots”.

“Don’t worry, Nick,” says Karolina, a seventh year, mouth full of chocolate pudding. “We’ve been training like crazy, we are even better prepared than last year. We’ll kick their asses tomorrow”.

“Their new chasers are really good though, we need to look out for them. They’re really fast and very in sync,” Sloane says, shooting a glance at the Gryffindor table.

“Yeah, it pains me to say it but Donna and Maria are really good – you wouldn’t be able to say they’ve just made the team this year”.

“Are they fifth years?” Sascha asks, spotting the two girls as well.

“Yeah, don’t you remember Donna from our last Prefects meeting?” Sloane asks, rolling her eyes. Sascha shrugs – he hadn’t really bothered to get to know the new Prefects just yet.

“Yes, and I’ve heard Maria’s dating Stefanos Tsitsipas, isn’t he in your year?” Karolina says.

Sascha doesn’t need to see his hair to know it’s gone pitch black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so so so so much to everyone who is reading, leaving kudos and comments on this story and being so nice and kind <3


	4. bad hair day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sascha ends up in the infirmary and receives an unexpected visit.

It’s a blur to Sascha how he ends up in the Hospital Wing.

When he opens his eyes, it’s to Madam Navratilova holding a cup to his mouth. He wrinkles his nose at the disgusting smell coming from whatever potion she’s having him drink, but he’s too queasy to protest and drinks it all in one go, trying to stop the room from spinning every time he opens his eyes.

“Uh… what happened?” he asks, when he finally stops feeling like he will either throw up or pass out on the spot.

“You took a bludger to the head, Mr Zverev”, Madam Navratilova says, not unkindly.

Well, that would explain the pounding headache and dizziness. Suddenly, Sascha remembers the match, and he feels like dying. He let his team down. He’s in the infirmary while they’re probably playing one man down and losing to stupid Gryffindor and Nick will be so _disappointed –_

“It’s remarkable, whatever hex you have had cast on your hair,” Madam Navratilova comments, eyeing him interestedly. “Your hair has been lavender the entire time you were asleep and only started changing again once you woke up. It seems like it’s in tune with your thoughts and feelings, am I right? And is midnight blue an indication that you would like to be left alone to sulk?”

Sascha is still thinking about what to say, too torn between dread and confusion to really come up with an answer, when the door barges open and the entire Slytherin team is rushing to his bed.

“Sascha, you wanker. Gave me the scare of my life when you fell off your broom out there!” Nick’s voice is ten times too loud for Sascha right now, but he feels too guilty to complain.

“If professor Federer hadn’t stopped your fall you could have broken your neck, it was terrifying,” Karolina adds, looking pretty shaken.

“How are you feeling now?” Fabio asks, while Sloane sits at the foot of his bed.

“I’m okay, just dizzy. Feeling pretty stupid though. I’m, uh – I’m sorry guys. I didn’t mean to make us lose the match.” Sascha can’t bring himself to look at his teammates, embarrassed at hearing professor Federer had to save him like some damsel in distress.

“Who said anything about losing the match?” Daniil interrupts his moping, a slow grin appearing on his face.

“We won? We _won?_ ” Sascha can hardly contain his excitement. The last thing he remembers was the goal he scored before being hit by the bludger, and Slytherin was leading 70-40.

“Sloane caught the snitch pretty much while you were falling,” Bianca explains. “It’s lucky that professor Federer noticed you being hit, because everyone else was focused on Sloane battling it out with Muguruza. The game ended before you had even touched the ground.”

Sascha is so flooded with relief at knowing he hasn’t let his team down and that they won the biggest game of the year that he doesn’t even care about being smashed in the head anymore.

“How did you not see that bludger, by the way? Fabio and I both screamed at you to duck,” Nick asks him then.

And – yes, how did he not see it? Sascha has always had great reflexes and he usually doesn’t lose his focus during a match. His temper, sure, but not his focus to the point of not seeing a bloody bludger come for him at all speed.

He forces his mind to go back to the moments preceding the crash: he had just scored a goal, he had high-fived Karolina, and then he had proceeded to fly towards the center of the pitch, ready to intercept the other team’s chasers. He was getting ready to fight for the quaffle with Vekic, the blonde Gryffindor chaser, when someone had cut him off…

And then he remembers.

He remembers and oh, it’s even _more_ embarrassing than he thought.

One of the other Gryffindor chasers, Maria Sakkari, had been the one standing in his way and when she had managed to prevent him from stealing the quaffle from Vekic, Sascha had heard a _very_ familiar voice cheering for her in the stands. He had turned around, instinctively, and sure enough Tsitsipas had been looking at him with a satisfied smirk on his face before encouraging the opposite team – before encouraging _Maria_ – again, never once shifting his gaze from Sascha.

That’s the last thing he remembers and he’s pretty sure that’s when he was hit by the bludger and, honestly, he’s grateful someone decided to put him out of his misery, even if it had been rather painful.

“I don’t know,” he tells Nick, with a shrug. “I guess I didn’t hear you, and I was looking the other way.”

Nick looks unconvinced, and Sascha tries to look as innocent as possible.

Thankfully, Madam Navratilova has had enough of the entire Slytherin team being loud and occupying her Infirmary, so she decides to kick them all out.

Not Sascha, though. She decides that he has to stay the night and will be allowed leave the following day only if he behaves, sleeps a lot and drinks his potions.

He tries a feeble protest, but quickly gives up when she reminds him that she can easily ban him from attending the Halloween banquet tomorrow night.

“I thought so,” she says, leaving a cup of potion on his bedside table. “There’s no need to be so gloomy, Mr Zverev. Blue is most definitely not your colour. Now, get some rest. I will come to check on you later tonight and bring you some dinner.”

-

Despite the emotions of the day, Sascha falls asleep extremely quickly after his team leaves. At meal time, Dominic comes and keeps him company as he eats some chicken soup, and then he sneaks him a few chocolate frogs. The two of them go over the match together and fall into a comfortable chit-chat until Madam Navratilova decides that it’s time for Sascha to rest.

Dominic leaves with the promise of coming back for breakfast the next day, and Sascha falls into a slumber, not truly asleep but not awake either.

The Infirmary is dark and quiet for the night, only him and a first year kid in there. Sascha turns onto his side to try and find a more comfortable position – the hospital bed is fluffy but it’s a bit small for his long limbs – and then he almost has a heart attack as he spots a figure looming over him in the shadows.

He gets ready to shout, or shriek, or something and oh god he doesn’t have his _wand_ with him - but a hand quickly flies out and warm fingers touch his lips keeping him from waking out the sleeping kid and Madam Navratilova.

He blinks a couple of times before he realizes, with sheer dread and horror and butterflies in his stomach, that he’s staring into Stefanos Tsitsipas’ dark eyes.

“Shhhh,” the Ravenclaw says, and his fingers are still touching Sascha’s lips and then Sascha feels the mattress dip as Tsitsipas sits on the bed, hand lingering for one more moment before dropping.

Sascha gapes at him, feeling his cheeks warm and his heart beating wildly and he just knows that his hair must be baby pink again. Oh god, he’s just had a concussion, he’s too vulnerable to those eyes right now, and what if he slips?

“What are you doing here?” he finally asks, weakly, when it becomes clear that Tsitsipas isn’t going to initiate a conversation even if he’s sitting on his bed in the middle of the night.

“Do you know,” Tsitsipas starts, his voice a warm whisper, “do you know who Jane Austen is?”

“Do I- what?”

“Jane Austen.”

Sascha just stares, completely lost – what if he’s hallucinating after the concussion? Tsitsipas sighs, and Sascha is painfully aware of how close they are, and he feels the sudden urge to just reach out and touch the other boy. Of course he doesn’t. He’s been humiliated enough for one day.

“Sometimes I forget how little pureblood families teach their children about the non-wizarding world. Okay, so – Jane Austen, she was a Muggle writer a couple of centuries ago. She wrote a lot of famous novels.”

In any other circumstance, Sascha would have told Tsitsipas to stop being a geeky weirdo and to leave him alone, and Tsitsipas would have probably bitten something back, and they would have started bickering – but it’s the middle of the night, and everything feels soft and dreamlike, and Sascha has never been more powerless.

Undeterred by Sascha’s silence, Tsitsipas continues.

“I think you should read this,” he says, extracting a worn, old book from the back pocket of his trousers. He hands Sascha the book, and although he looks determined, the way he almost hides behind his golden curls the longer Sascha stares at the book without taking it makes him seem a bit unsure, a bit vulnerable himself.

At last, Sascha takes the book from him, squinting a little to decipher the title in the dark.

“It’s _Pride and Prejudice_ ,” Tsitsipas tells him, gentle voice full of nervous anticipation.

Sascha opens it and tries to read the first couple of lines “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife,” he reads aloud, and when it register he suddenly feels a burst of annoyance and, although he would never admit it, disappointment. “Is this some sort of joke?” he snaps.

“It’s a good book,” Tsitsipas answers, and he looks slightly _eager_. “I think you should read it,” he says again, before getting up from the bed.

Sascha just blinks up at him, wondering again if this is some sort of lucid dream. Tsitsipas stares at him for a long moment, and then – slowly, painfully, exhilaratingly slowly, he bends down, and down, and down until his face is mere centimetres away from Sascha’s.

Sascha holds his breath, heart beating wildly in his chest as he suddenly has to force himself not to stare at the other boy’s lips.

For a long, endless second they stay like that, suspended, staring into each other’s eyes.

Then Tsitsipas says, a whisper falling on Sascha’s lips – “You look pretty with pink hair.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for following this fic! Please leave me a comment if you like it <3 feedback keeps me going!


	5. seeing in color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominic tries to help, Sascha reads Pride & Prejudice.

When he first wakes up the morning after, still in the hospital wing, Sascha is absolutely sure he must have dreamed Tsitsipas sneaking into his room at night and calling him pretty.

With a sigh, he sits up. It’s peaceful in the infirmary, and the sound of the heavy October rain falling against the old, high windows is extremely comforting. Sascha hopes one of his friends will show up for breakfast, already starting to feel bored and not looking forwards to having to spend Halloween in the hospital wing, especially not now that he feels pretty much fine.

Distractedly, he reaches for the glass of water he knows is on the bedside table, but his hand brushes against something else, a book.

It wasn’t a dream.

Sascha’s heart goes wild, fluttering and running as he turns around to look and, sure enough, the Muggle book Tsitsipas had given him the night before is sitting on the nightstand, looking worn out and oh so real.

“He called me pretty,” he says out loud, in complete disbelief.

“Who?”

Dominic’s voice makes Sascha jump in surprise, almost spilling the glass of water in the process.

“Jesus, Domi, you don’t need to give Madam Navratilova another reason to hold me in here. Warn a guy, you know?”

Dominic just smiles, not looking particularly guilty, and drags a chair over to Sascha’s bed, holding out a scone as a peace offering that Sascha immediately accepts.

“So, are you going to tell me who called you pretty so I can bring them a pair of glasses?”

“Very funny,” Sascha replies, trying to dodge the question by shoving the entire scone in his mouth. Dominic, however, has always been extremely patient, and he seems unperturbed by having to wait for him to finish before prodding him once more.

“Has this something to do with how your hair constantly turns pink whenever Stefanos so much as looks at you?”

Sascha inhales so quickly that a piece of scone gets stuck in his throat and Dominic actually has to pat his back to make sure he doesn’t choke to a very embarrassing death.

“Sorry, I probably should have waited until you were done eating. I’ll take it as a yes?”

Sascha takes his time, drinking some water and trying to calm down a little before he answers, “Look, even I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I genuinely thought I hated him up until this week. To be fair, I think I still might hate him a bit.”

It’s relieving, saying everything out loud at last. He knows Dominic would never judge him – much like a niffler, he considers, and the thought makes him smile a little.

“You know there's nothing wrong with having feelings for someone unexpected, right? And actually, I’ve thought you had a bit of a crush on Stefanos for a while,” Dominic says, gently.

“How is that even possible,” Sascha mumbles, feeling a bit faint.

Dominic shrugs and looks at him with intelligent, kind eyes. “You always seemed a bit… obsessed with him. And your rant about how Stefanos should cut his hair made it sound suspiciously like you actually really liked it. I know you always proclaimed your hate for him, but – wait, is that _Pride and Prejudice_?”

Sascha feels himself blush up to his forehead and down to his neck. “He came to see me last night and gave me that book. He said I should read it, and then he, uhm. He told me I look pretty with pink hair,” the words rush out of his mouth and he wouldn’t mind if another bludger decided to hit him in the head right this second to avoid Dominic’s reaction.

He waits for the inevitable laugh, but it doesn’t come.

“He’s not wrong, you know,” he says instead. “You _do_ look pretty with pink hair, which by the way you’re sporting every single time you mention Stefanos. And I also happen to agree with him on _Pride and Prejudice,_ I think that book could be illuminating for you”.

“You’ve read it?”

“No, but I’ve watched the film. What! You know my mom’s a muggle, and it’s a good story”.

“I guess I’ll try it, I’m stuck here all day. But I’m sure I won’t like it one bit,” Sascha says, feeling a lot like a stubborn child.

Dominic just shrugs, before getting up. “I should go to class. Will you be at the banquet tonight?”

“Yeah, Madam Navratilova said if I’m okay today I can go.”

“I’ll see you there then, Sasch. Enjoy your reading,” Dominic tells him with a smirk.

“Not funny at all,” Sascha grumbles, but then he adds, “thanks for – you know. Listening and not making me feel weird, I guess. I appreciate it.”

“Well, you need one friend whose advice isn’t going to be whatever Nick, Fabio or Daniil would say. But you’re welcome,” with one last smile Dominic makes his way out of the infirmary. Sascha finishes his scone and, not without trepidation, picks up the Muggle book and opens it, hoping to find out why his arch-nemesis-turned-crush wants him to read it so much.

-

Mr Darcy is a _dick._

Elizabeth is right, she should ignore him and despise him, no matter how charming or rich or good looking he may be. Who does he think he is?

-

Okay maybe Mr Darcy isn’t _completely_ a dick. He cares for his little sister and he definitely was right about Mr Wickham, Sascha will give him that. Still unlikeable, though. No doubt about it.

-

Well how was Sascha supposed to know that Fitzwilliam bloody Darcy was actually a nice person? It’s not like he had given Elizabeth any chance to get to know the real him, writing hera weird letter and messing up with Jane and Bingley.

Still, now Sascha can kinda (totally, who is he kidding) see why Elizabeth falls for him. Actually, he thinks that Elizabeth had been in love with him from the very beginning, she was just too blinded by her pride and by her prejudice (ah, that explains the title then) to see it.

_“_ _Till this moment I never knew myself”_

Oh.

_Oh._

But it doesn’t make sense though! Tsitsipas never once tried to get to know Sascha or to show him that he may be interested!

Except… at the end of last year there had been that one time when he had asked Sascha if he could sit next to him in the library, but Sascha had lied to him and told him he was saving the seat for Dominic.

And then there was that other time, last month on the Hogwarts Express, when Stefanos (oh _God_ his mind is refusing to call him Tsitsipas now?) had come to tell him about the Prefect meeting happening in half an hour and then he had hovered awkwardly at the door of Sascha’s compartment, and he had asked him how his summer went. Sascha had brushed him off then, too.

And what about two weeks ago, when they were at a Duelling Club meeting and Khachanov had stunned a distracted Sascha so hard that he had actually flown across the room and into the stone wall? Stefanos had been by his side almost as fast as Nick, and he had asked him “Are you okay, Sascha?”. He had never used his name before and he had looked pretty worried instead of laughing as Sascha was expecting.

Oh God.

Sascha had been a complete and utter idiot. He had been so stuck on his constant competition against Stefanos, and so convinced the other boy felt the exact same, that he had been blind to his own feelings – what bloody moron needs to be hexed by his own friend to realize he may have been in love with his arch-nemesis for Merlin knows how long?

But maybe, just maybe, Stefanos has figured it out. He gave Sascha the book after all…

Sascha wishes he could be petting a niffler to clear his mind, but he knows he needs to do something about this. He’s never been a patient person, and now that he knows he can just pretend that he doesn’t.

Suddenly he remembers the Halloween banquet tonight and makes up his mind: he’s going to do something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so so much for all the comments on last chapter! I'm so happy you guys liked it! I hope you will like this one too <3 drop me a comment if you did!


	6. baby-blues and baby-pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally get some of Stef's POV!

It's like a dam has broken.

Now that he’s aware of his own feelings for Stefanos and of the fact that maybe, just maybe, Stefanos may reciprocate, Sascha is finding it impossible to think about anything else.

This apparently has left his hair in various shades of pink the entire day, much to the enjoyment of Madam Navratilova, who keeps giggling at him and clearly is having a good time poking fun. In the end, she decides he’s recovered enough to attend the banquet, and Sascha almost feels queasy at the idea because he hasn’t really been able to come up with anything.

He can’t possibly sit there all night harbouring secret feelings for Stefanos, that would never work.

Except - isn’t that what he’s been doing all this time? Keeping his feelings so hidden that he himself wasn’t even fully aware of them?

He could keep doing that. Maybe Stefanos doesn’t like him after all, maybe he only realized Sascha has a crush on him because of the stupid hair thing and has decided to torment him. Maybe Stefanos really is dating that stupid Maria girl from Gryffindor who almost beat Sascha at Quidditch yesterday.

But what if he isn’t? Sascha wants to find out, and hopefully this won’t end with him having to leave the castle forever because of a destroyed reputation.

“Fuck it,” he mutters to himself, tying his shoes and getting ready to leave the infirmary. “I’m a Slytherin. I’m a Prefect and a bloody good chaser and I am not going to back down.”

“You do that, Mr Zverev,” says Madam Navratilova, making him jump with her sudden appearance. “Whoever it is, they are most certainly lucky. Now go enjoy the banquet, and please do try not to get injured or hexed again, will you?”

“Uh…yeah, thanks,” Sascha mumbles, slightly taken aback.

He makes his way out of the infirmary and to the Slytherin common room, already buzzing and full of people getting ready to go to the Halloween banquet.

Sascha bypasses them all, ignoring Bianca calling for him, and opens the door to his dormitory with a loud bang that elicits a couple of curses from his mates, who are in various states of undress and are now staring at him with bemused expressions.

When he doesn’t say anything but just stands there, frankly unsure himself of what he wants to tell them, it’s Daniil who breaks the silence.

“Glad I could help you figure things out. You’re welcome”.

Sascha immediately feels a flash of outrage. “You – Is this why you did it? Did you _know?”_

“I had my suspicions, yes. You are not nearly as sneaky as you think, after all, I’ve always thought you should have been in Gryffindor with a hot head like that”.

“Take that back!” Sascha roars immediately, fisting his hands, and – yeah, Daniil may have a point and he also happens to have hit a sore spot.

Placidly, Nick gets up and places a hand on Sascha’s shoulder.

“Mate, he’s just taking the piss. You should know this by now, yeah? Come on, why don’t you get ready for the banquet? Unless there’s something you wanted to tell us, you looked pretty winded there a minute ago”.

Sascha hesitates. Telling Dominic, all Hufflepuff acceptance and patience, is one thing, but he’s a bit scared of how his Slytherin friends might react, even though he considers them basically his brothers.

“Can someone fill me in?” Fabio asks as he adjusts his green and silver tie, checking his reflection in the mirror with a pleased expression.

Sensing Sascha’s discomfort, Nick, always team captain, decides to step in.

“Mate, is this about how your hair turns disgustingly pink around He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

“Really, Nick? Are you really going to call him that?”

“Are you gonna answer or are you just gonna keep bloody stalling until someone else has to say it instead? Because you know I will _gladly_ s-“

“Alright, alright. Jesus,” Sascha takes a deep breath, steels himself, and then the words rush out of him all at once. “My hair goes pink when I’m around Stefanos because I apparently, uh. Oh, fuck it. I like him, okay? I didn’t really know myself but I’ve figured it out now and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do about it now that I know, and I’m pretty terrified. So there you go. It’s, uh. Secret’s out, I guess.”

The room falls into a heavy, terrifying silence for a few seconds before laughter erupts, loud and uncontrolled, leaving Sascha confused and slightly offended.

“What’s so funny then?”

It takes the other three ages to rein it in, and then finally Nick, holding himself up on Fabio’s shoulder, manages to say, drying his tears and holding his belly with one hand: “Sascha, mate. You absolute dumbass. I love you, but you can be so dense, I honestly don’t know how you’re top of our class and all”.

“You have a point?” Sascha bites back, irritated beyond belief.

Fabio decides that it’s wiser to intervene, and actually tries to look somewhat serious about it too. “What Nick is trying to say is that we’ve known about your giant, absolutely obvious crush on Tsitsipas since around Christmas last year”.

“Y- Wait, what? How is it that everyone seemed to know except for me?”

“Who else knows?” Daniil asks, immediately going back to his calculating self.

“Domi. And I’m not really sure but I think _he_ knows too. Tsitsipas, I mean. Stefanos.”

Daniil breaks into an extremely satisfied grin at the news. “I’m still waiting for the moment you thank me for alerting that annoying idiot about you being interested – not that it wasn’t obvious before, but he does seem equally as dense as you are”.

“Stefanos is not an idiot!” Sascha retorts on instinct, and then he proceeds to hide his face in his hands when he realizes what he’s just said.

The dam has truly and well broken.

His friends all start laughing again at his slip, and Sascha pointedly ignores them as he makes a beeline for the shower, wondering if this is going to be his fate from now on.

He’s about to close the door to the bathroom behind him when Fabio, smirking so hard that he frankly looks ridiculous, stops him.

“Wait, lover boy. You haven’t told us the most important part yet, the one we _don’t_ already know about: what are you going to do about this?”

Sascha shrugs and quickly locks himself in the bathroom – it’s better than telling them the truth, which is that he still has no idea what to do.

-

“Stef, are you ready? Come on, we’re gonna be late and I really don’t want to miss the opening of the banquet”

“You go ahead, Felix. I’m feeling a bit off, maybe I’ll come down in a bit”.

Stefanos waits for Felix to leave the dorm, after having reassured him that he’s okay and it’s probably just a cold, before he sits on the window seat. He has to curl up a bit to fit now, but the feeling of being able to be alone with his thoughts as he look at the lake and the night sky has been a source of comfort since first year, and he’s not about to give that up now.

Finally alone, he takes a deep breath and just lets himself _feel._

He can’t stop thinking about last night – about Alexander Zverev Jr. Stefanos wants to call him Sascha so badly, wants to feel how the name would curl in his mouth. It had slipped out once – Alexander had been hit by a rogue stun charm at the Duelling Club and before he could hold it back Stefanos had heard himself say it, his concern overriding his sense of control.

It has been a slippery slope, and this past few days have sent Stefanos falling, and falling, falling so hard for Sascha and all his contradictions – how could Stefanos not be in love with him when he’s such a confusing mix of ruthless Slytherin ambition and goofy sweetness? The first time Stefanos had spotted Sascha helping professor Murray with Nifflers he had been a goner.

But Sascha has always seem to dislike him, and Stefanos is too proud not to respond in kind when he’s been challenged. Truth be told, he has done some challenging of his own, and it’s been _fun_. 

And now… now Sascha looks at him with those giant baby-blues and baby-pink hair, and his gaze doesn’t hold the resentment it used to. Ever since they saw each other on the Hogwarts Express a couple of months ago, Stefanos has started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Sascha may actually return his feelings.

He has let himself hope, and yesterday night he did the unthinkable and showed up in the infirmary in the middle of the night and, because he’s too afraid of being rejected and he’s so in love that it hurts, he gave Sascha a Muggle book in hopes that Sascha would understand.

Except… what if he does understand and he’s disgusted? What if Sascha really does resent him? What if he really is dating that Brenda girl from Hufflepuff who always sits next to him at the library?

All day Stefanos has tormented himself with these thoughts and now suddenly the idea of going to the banquet and facing Sascha, who will undoubtedly be surrounded by his usual bunch of friends who may very well make fun of his ridiculous love declaration via Muggle book… he doesn’t think he can do it.

So he won’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you will like this chapter, and sorry for the long wait <3 if you do, please leave a comment here!


	7. life in technicolor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A resolution.

Stefanos isn’t at the banquet.

Sascha has been staring at the Ravenclaw table so hard that he’s surprised he hasn’t accidentally set it on fire with a bout of very nervous, very frustrated magic. He wasn’t going to go, but his friends have been relentless and now he’s here and Stefanos is _not._

“You’re a Slytherin for fuck’s sake! I will not let you hide in the toilet like some first year Hufflepuff crying about your feelings,” Nick had said as he bodily dragged Sascha out of their shared bathroom, and yeah – maybe he had a point. Or he _would_ have had a point if Stefanos had been here and maybe Sascha could have found a moment to talk to him after a few pints of Butterbeer to take away the edge.

But Sascha’s gaze has never strayed from the Ravenclaw’s side of the Great Hall, and it’s time for dessert and Stefanos just is nowhere to be seen. He doesn’t even need to look at his reflection on the back of a silver spoon to know that his hair is a gloomy shade of blue right now.

“I’m sorry, Sascha,” Sloane’s voice cuts through his thoughts from where she’s sitting in front of him.

“Huh?” he asks, trying for confused.

Sloane rolls her eyes and nods her head towards the Ravens. “Nick told me you were finally gonna do something about your blatant, horrible crush,” she tells him, casually.

“Wh- was I the only one who didn’t know?” he snaps, exasperated.

“Yes, sweetie, I think you were.” She looks lie she’s about to say something else but someone behind Sascha grabs her attention instead. When he turns around he’s surprised to see Felix walking towards him, a goblet of pumpkin juice in one hand and a conspiratorial expression on his face.

“Hey,” he greets them once he’s close enough to their table. Nick and Fabio are being so obnoxiously loud Sascha almost doesn’t hear him.

“Hey Felix,” he replies, with a veil of uncertainty.

“Stef stayed in our Common Room. Which is empty now. Just thought you may want to know,” he ends with a shrug. Sloane cheers and thanks him profusely while Sascha just sits there, dumbfounded, as Felix turns around and goes back to his mates.

“Well, what are you waiting for, then? Go!” Sloane kicks him under the table and raises her eyebrows at him when he finally snaps out of his reverie. “Go,” she repeats.

So he does.

He stands up from his seat so quickly he almost sends a couple of goblets flying. He ignores Nick calling after him and just walks, faster, and faster, and faster, mechanically making his way to the West Tower. He doesn’t even flinch when Peeves tries to jump-scare him, just throwing a random _Diffindo_ behind him, and by the time he’s nearing the Ravenclaw Common Room he’s almost breathless and certainly lightheaded.

Finally, he stops in front of the wooden door with the eagle knocker, right in the middle of the empty corridor, and knocks.

The eagle opens its beak, startling him for a moment, and asks: “What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?”.

Oh. Oh, no.

In his haste, Sascha had completely forgotten that the only way to enter the Ravenclaw Common Room is to answer a riddle. Sascha is, as Daniil loves to remind him, absolutely horrible at them. But what is he to do? He has to try.

“Uh…My ego? No, I’m just kidding – I guess that didn’t even really make sense, so, uhm.”

The eagle stays immobile, staring at him with unforgiving, lifeless eyes.

“Alright, let’s see, what is so fragile that saying its name breaks it… Voldemort? No? Okay… how about a promise! A secret? An unbreakable vow! Oh, come on… give me something, a hint, anything!”

The eagle still doesn’t move, but Sascha could swear he saw it roll its eyes at him.

“Well fuck off then, will you!” he cries out loud, hands on his face and close to tearing his own hair off out of frustration.

“I would but I was rather enjoying listening to your really stupid answers.”

Sascha’s heart jumps so high in his throat it hurts, and his hands fall off his face to reveal one very amused Stefanos Tsitsipas standing right in front of him, the Common Room door finally open, albeit from the inside.

Sascha can feel a violent blush creep up his neck and he swears he’d die of embarrassment if that was a possibility at all.

“Stefanos,” he says, voice faint as his eyes lock with the Ravenclaw’s warm gaze.

Stefanos grins, a hand flying up to mess with his caramel curls in what looks like sudden shyness.

“Would you like to come in, then?”

“Uh, I – yeah, thanks. I was actually looking for you, but I’m really bad at riddles, so…”

“Yeah, I could tell. Come on in. It was ‘silence’, by the way. The thing that’s broken by saying its name,” Stefanos tells him, stepping aside to let Sascha in.

He’s never been to the Ravenclaw Common Room before, and he finds that he really likes it: the ceiling shows the starry sky from outside, the fireplace is surrounded by deep blue couches and armchairs, and there’s a lot of space to study and enjoy some peace.

Stefanos sits on the couch in front of the fire and stares at Sascha expectantly.

“This room is very nice. It’s a nice change from Slytherin, we’re underground so our windows can’t be opened because they are surrounded by the lake, which is really nice during the day because the light reflects in this really pretty way, but it’s just pitch black and kind of creepy at night, you know?”

He knows he’s rambling, but how can he help it? He doesn’t even have a plan!

Stefanos hums in reply, and Sascha finally walks over to the couch and sits as far away from Stefanos as possible. His heart is beating so fast he can hardly think, and Stefanos is really not helping, looking cosy in his casual clothes and not saying a _single word_ as he looks at him, oh my God this is so so so so bad.

Sascha is about to blurt out an excuse, _any_ excuse, and just get out of there and maybe have a bit of a cry in his room before the other are back, when Stefanos is suddenly close, so close and so beautiful, and he’s just looking at him with such fondness and trepidation that it shuts Sascha right up.

“Your eyes are very blue,” Stefanos whispers, and his hand is cradling Sascha’s jaw, when did that happen?

“They are,” Sascha murmurs, dumbly.

“And your hair is very pink right now,” Stefanos continues, his thumb slowly caressing Sascha’s cheek, and Sascha thinks he may be about to collapse with how overheated his body feels and how his heart now permanently lives in his throat.

“It’s because of you,” he hears himself saying. “My hair is only pink when you’re around. I think maybe I… I’ve been a bit oblivious about you,” he confesses, quietly.

Stefanos just nods. His thumb stops right at the corner of Sascha’s mouth and then Stefanos is leaning forward, and Sascha’s eyes are closing on their own accord, and they’re kissing, kissing, kissing…

-

Sascha’s hair is back to its regular blond by November 3rd, much to his relief and to Stefanos’ dismay.

“Baby pink really did look cute on you,” he insists while he feeds the Niffler that has taken residency on his lap.

That morning Professor Murray had casually told Sascha that he was welcome to bring a friend along to the Care of Magical Creatures pen since they had a lot of Nifflers to feed and brush, and then he had smirked knowingly. Sascha couldn’t even be mad about it when he got to spend time with his boyfriend – his _boyfriend!_ – and the Nifflers at the same time.

“You were literally the only person who thought so,” Sascha tells him, trying not to smile too big.

“But I’m the person whose opinion should count the most, I think,” Stefanos replies, smiling in turn.

“Yeah. Yeah, you are”.

They only stop kissing when an extremely irritated Niffler pokes at Sascha’s belly so hard he falls over. As he stares at the sunny winter sky above him, Stefanos making cooing noises and laughing at him, Sascha feels the happiest he’s ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me ages but it's here! Watching the US Open gave me the inspiration that I needed :) I hope you'll like this ending!

**Author's Note:**

> Please if you like this and would like me to continue let me know in the comments and leave me a kudos <3


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